Page 72 of Wicked Love

“What’s going on here?” I ask.

Both women turn toward me, speaking at once.

“She’s trying to get rid of my things?—”

“She’s putting her things where Becca has?—”

I hold up my hand and they pause. “Mom, Mrs. McGregor has been running this house and helping with Becca for a long time. She knows how things work here…what is helpful with Becca and how she functions best.”

“I’m simply trying to make it homey, Bowie,” my mom says, sniffing.

Mrs. McGregor raises an eyebrow. “Becca doesn’t deal well with clutter,” she says somewhat haughtily.

“These things mean a lot to me, and they add beauty to any room they’re in,” Mom argues. “They arenotclutter.”

“Mom,” my voice edges toward warning, “Mrs. McGregor is invaluable. She’s practically family. And I need her to stay happy if this house is going to function. Andhonestly, I’m not used to so much—” I wave my hands toward the various giraffes positioned around my kitchen.

“I’m only trying to help.” My mom’s voice softens slightly, but her posture is still rigid.

“You’re not helping by steamrolling the one person who keeps everything together,” I say. “You’re here as my guest, and I need you to respect that.”

Mom purses her lips but doesn’t argue further. Mrs. McGregor shoots me a grateful look before turning back to the cabinet.

As the tension eases, I exhale and run a hand through my hair.

“I’ll stay out of her way,” my mom says, but she still sounds miffed. “But don’t think I won’t voice my opinions when necessary.”

I smirk. “I would expect nothing less.”

Mom retreats upstairs and I lean against the counter, feeling the weight of the day settling on my shoulders.

All the complicated dynamics in my life are colliding at once.

And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep them all from imploding.

Because I’m a glutton for punishment today, I pick up my phone and text Poppy.

I apologize for kissing you at work…that was not okay and I’m sorry for upsetting you.

She doesn’t respond for a few minutes, but when she does, I run my hand through my hair, groaning. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Poppy

Not okay? You sure know how to destroy a girl’s ego, Bowie.

I didn’t mean that. The kiss…for me…was perfect. 30/10.

Poppy

That’s more like it.

I let out a choked laugh.

You’re messing with me?

Poppy

I’m messing with you.

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